Renegade Bride (30 page)

His gaze met hers. "You were...
une jeune vierge.
A virgin."

"And did you think I wouldn't be?" She damned the catch in her voice.

"Of course not." He furrowed his hair back with both hands. "Hell. It's pretty obvious I wasn't thinking at all. If I had been, we wouldn't be in this situation."

She turned her head away sharply and gazed at the fire. "Are you saying you're sorry we... about what happened?"

"Sorry I made love to you? Or sorry I ruined you for Seth?" he countered.

She glared back at him, afraid to choose one over the other. Afraid to hear the truth.

His eyes locked with hers as he moved toward her from across the bed. Like a stalking animal, he came closer. She watched him come, but found she couldn't move. With two hands he took her shoulders and shoved her down on the buffalo hide. He hovered over her, a fierce breath away, while his eyes roved over her face and hair as if he were memorizing her.

"No, Mariah." His mouth dipped down to cover hers. His lips were gentle, pleading. "How can I be sorry about making love to you," he breathed along her jaw, "when I want you again already?" He pressed himself against her. "When you can do this to me by just being near you—"

"Creed—"

He lowered his mouth to hers again, silencing her, sending her mind spinning away from the rights and the wrongs of his kiss. When he lifted his head, his gaze locked with hers. "I don't regret this,
ma bijou.
Not tonight. Not tonight."

Need overrode reason. Passion thundered through them like the storm raging outside. What was done was done, there was no undoing it. Not tonight, not tomorrow.

Not ever.

He dropped his mouth to her breast again, sucking, pulling hard on the beaded rosy nub. His teeth rasped the sensitive skin, inflaming her.

"Oh... Creed..." She wanted... she needed... all of him. Sinking her fingers into thick ebony hair she pulled him closer to her breast. She gasped as his fingers dipped past the triangle of hair curled at the apex of her legs and found her once more, stroking her to the brink of madness.

Reaching down, her palm skimmed the muscles of his abdomen until they brushed the silken heat of him. He let out a low sound and flexed his hips against her hand.

"Ah,
Dieu,
Mariah... yes..."

She stroked him as he had her, until he groaned and turned her over onto her back. His knee impatiently thrust her legs apart. She welcomed the invasion, ached for it. His tongue laved her breast, abrading her nipple with fire, then trailed upward until his teeth closed tantalizingly around the lobe of her ear.

"I won't hurt you this time," he promised against her ear, tormenting the inside of it with his tongue.

She twisted until her mouth found his and she told him with her kiss that it didn't matter. With a groan, he deepened the kiss and entered her in a quick, certain thrust. While his hips moved against hers, the hair on his chest rasped against her breasts, creating an unbearable friction.

She hooked her ankles around the backs of his legs and drew her knees up, urging him closer, closer. Her hands moved against the flexing muscles of his back to the thrusting movements of his hips, awed by the sheer animal power of him.

Slow first, then faster, they fused like tinder and flame, exploding into a brilliant burst. A cry tore from deep inside her and he captured it with his mouth, finding his own release only seconds later. He pulsed within her, slumping over her shoulder with a groan.

Arms and legs entwined, they lay exhausted and sated, without saying a word, until sleep stole over them.

* * *

Dawn came with the gentle patter of rain on the roof. The fire snapped and popped with fresh wood and the scent of it filled the cabin. Groggily, Mariah realized that Creed's body was no longer curved around hers. Opening her eyes, she rolled over beneath the buffalo robe and reached for him, only to find him gone. She sat up.

He stood at the window, watching the rain through the wavy panes of glass. His back was to her. He'd pulled on his Levis, but his back was bare. The early morning light washed over him, defining the smooth muscles of his powerful back and arms. Her attraction to him hit her like a rolling wave, making her body tighten all over again with desire.

"Creed?"

The only indication he had heard her was a slight inclination of his head, but he didn't answer.

"Creed?" she repeated, throwing her feet over the edge of the bed. "Are you all right?"

"Go back to sleep, Mariah."

She unwound the nightrail from her legs and stood, wincing a little as she did. "I'm not tired."

"You should be," he said, still looking out the window. "I kept you up last night."

"I didn't mind. How long have you been up?"

"A while."

"You can't look at me this morning. Is that it?"

Creed turned around at that. His gaze started at her bare toes and traveled up until he was looking her in the eye. "No. It's myself I'm having a little trouble with."

Her gaze fell to the floor. "What shall we do now?"

"Do?" Creed knew what she meant. Dammit, he knew, but he had no answer. "Nothing."

Shock held her silent for a few moments. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"You belong with him, Mariah. Not me."

"You can say that after what we've done?" Her voice quavered. "Did it mean nothing to you?"

He sighed heavily. It was a question he'd been wrestling with for hours. Solutions seemed as scarce as sunny skies. "I don't regret making love to you, Mariah. In fact, you're probably the best thing that's ever happened to me. But I do regret that I've betrayed Seth... and you."

"Me?
No, you're wro—"

"Seth trusted me with you. You trusted me to bring you to him. Now, look what I've done." He raked a hand through his sleep-tumbled hair.

Mariah stared at him.
"You've
done? What about me?"

"It was my fault. I could have stopped it."

"I didn't
want
you to stop. My God, Creed, can't you see what's happening to us?"

"I didn't mean for this to happen."

She shook her head in confusion. "Of course not. Neither did I. But it
did."

He hated himself for what he was about to say. But there was no avoiding it. "There's no future for us. I have nothing to offer you, Mariah. You've seen what I am. What kind of a life could we have together? I'm nothing but a bounty hunter—"

"There's only one man you're after and we both know it," she replied steadily. "He may be dead already."

"Maybe. Maybe not. He could kill me tomorrow. Then where would you be? You're a lady, Mariah. Seth—he's the kind of man you need."

"And you know what that is, do you? What it is I need?"

"Better than
you
seem to, yes."

She'd walked up behind him and turned him fiercely by the elbow. "Do you feel nothing for me?"

His insides twisted. God, he wished it were true. Wished what had happened between them had been no more or less than that little shred of himself he'd shared with Desiree Lupone back at The Nightingale, but he knew it wasn't. Not by a long shot.

A deep breath did little to ease the ache in him. He felt torn and bloody inside and he doubted he'd ever be whole again. "It doesn't matter what I feel. Seth trusted me to bring you to him. That's what I'm going to do."

"And what," she asked defiantly, "shall I tell him on our wedding night?"

That stopped him cold. It wasn't as if he hadn't thought of it. What
would
she tell him? Should she lie? But Seth would know, just as Creed had known she'd been a maiden.
Merde.

"I'll go to him, if you want," he said at last, turning toward the fire. "I'll tell him I took advantage of you."

"You'll what?"
She stared at him as if he'd just turned into a piece of furniture.

"I'll tell him it wasn't your fault. I... I seduced you when you were vulnerable." His gaze traced the lovely curve of her cheek and ended on her lips. "He'll believe me. Any man in his right mind would believe it."

Her mouth tightened. "How noble of you, but it's hardly the truth."

"Close enough."

Not nearly close enough,
she thought with a sharp pang of guilt. "No." She walked toward the fire and slumped into the robe-covered chair.

"Why not?" he asked, pacing away from the window. "It would work. Seth would forgive you. I know he would."

She turned to look at him, angry. "I don't know what I'll do yet, but I won't let you take the blame for this. Whether you want to believe it or not, what happened between us wasn't a seduction. It was... inevitable. And we both know it." She watched the flames blacken the underside of the river rocks that lined the fireplace. "Even if... if it meant nothing to you, it meant... something to me."
It meant everything.

Creed's heart twisted with an almost physical pain.
Don't do this to me, Mariah. You're tearing me up inside.

"Don't be a fool. Don't throw away what you have with Seth because of one night with me. It would be a terrible mistake."

"Would it?" she asked, staring at him.

Creed stood watching her for a long minute and finally returned to the window. "The snow is nearly gone. The rain's letting up. If we leave soon, we can be in Virginia City by tomorrow evening."

When she didn't answer, he looked back at her. She was walking toward him, her fingers working open the buttons of her nightrail. Pop, pop, pop, they flicked open until the gentle swell of her breast appeared.

Creed swallowed, fighting the tightening in his groin and an erratic pounding in his chest. "Mariah, what are you—?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she stopped in front of him, her eyes locked with his, and slipped the gown first off one shoulder, then the other until it pooled in an ivory puddle at her feet. Heat soared through him like a Chinook wind. Hands still at his sides, his eyes widened, taking in the perfection of her body backlit by the morning light coming through the window.

He shuddered as she reached up and trailed her fingers down his bare chest and across his sensitive nipple.

His eyes slid shut on a moan.
"Dieu,
don't..."

"Does this feel like a mistake to you, Creed?" she whispered, touching the moist tip of her tongue where her fingers had been.

"This doesn't change anything," he warned, breathing deeply, inhaling her touch.

"No," Mariah whispered against his skin. "It doesn't change a thing."
But everything is changed.
"Make love to me, Creed. Make love to me one last time in the daylight. Don't talk. Don't even think."

With a groan, he scooped her in his arms. Dropping his mouth heatedly against hers, he gave up his good intentions and gave in to the inevitable force that bound them together as surely as a magnet to steel.

"Just love me, Creed," she whispered against his ear. "Just for a little while. Soon enough, we'll have to say goodbye."

And one last time, he did.

Chapter 16

"Gentlemen, take your positions!" shouted the tall, bewhiskered man on the wooden stoop of one of Virginia City's newest hotels, The Missouri House. The man's distinguished black frock coat—minus tie—and tall gray hat set him apart from the begrimed collection of miners who shoved and jostled for prime positions in the circle near the brim-full watering trough.

The dozen or so men did not seem bothered by either the ankle-deep mud—which carried the distinct odor of horse dung—nor the fading daylight, but were furiously stuffing chaw inside their cheeks and tossing last minute wagers of antelope bags filled with gold dust at the tally man. This fellow scribbled rapid notes in a leatherbound notebook atop a metal scale in his lap.

Wide-eyed, Mariah steered Petunia around the crowd of rowdies, dodging the spectators who had gathered for the event and who gawked from every stoop and balcony close at hand. Whores in skimpy, shock-bright costumes dangled out the windows of a half-painted brothel in a lascivious display of skin and cleavage, shouting ribald encouragement at the miners.